Can Helping Hurt?

In a previous posting, I wrote that we have decided to help people however and wherever asked. Sounds simple, doesn't it? Too simple.

So what is the proper response when someone makes a request that could easily be fulfilled, but might just end up hurting more than helping?

Last week, a friend asked for a loan. To me, it was a relatively small sum: I could have honoured his request for $250. And through the looking-glass of North America, the need seemed great: he wanted the money to buy some sheets of tin to cover his open-to-the-sky house, and some other improvements that would help him secure his possessions. How can I deny someone $250 so that he can literally put a roof over his head?

To him, by contrast, this request was huge. It represented four or five months' worth of salary.

Knowing that I didn't really understand his living situation (though I've been to his house), but also knowing that he's lived without much of his house covered since March (which isn't that unusual in Mozambique), I knew that the situation wasn't urgent. Important, yes. Urgent, no.

Laura suggested that I make it a teachable moment, so that's exactly what I did.

When presented with the request, I told my friend that I would think about it and that we could talk about it the next day. When we met again, I didn't have an answer, but instead had prepared a lesson on Biblically-sound financial principles.

My task when I came to Mozambique was to work on micro-enterprise development initiatives. Being here, I've realized that mentoring people on personal finances is a critically important foundational step: an entrepreneur can't build a successful business if he doesn't know how to manage his own finances.

The requester is a young Christian, so respected the wisdom of the Bible. Had he not been, its teachings are still rational, rooted in common sense.

I spoke to him about things that seem obvious to a guy with a Master's degree in business, and a house with a mortgage. I asked him questions like:

Have you made a plan? Do you really need to do all of the work now? Or can some of it wait until you have saved some money?

How will you continue to feed yourself and your family -- an important obligation -- if you spend four or five months of salary on these house improvements?

How will you cope with other unexpected expenses that may arise over the coming months?

How will taking this loan restrict your future decisions? Will it require you to continue along a path you don't like in order to pay the loan back? Might it prevent you from pursuing an opportunity that arises because of the outstanding obligation?

These questions struck him like great bits of wisdom. He understood the need to think carefully about his request, and asked for time to do so.

* * * * *

Naturally, I could have offered to give him the money, which would seem like the compassionate thing to do. That would have been completely within my ability, and it's a response that I wrestled with at great length.

I could have allowed him to put a roof over his house and avoid being enslaved by debt.

My hope is that mentoring him in the way to plan and think through his financial decisions will be an investment worth far more to him than had I opened my wallet and handed him $250. My prayer is that he becomes a master of his own destiny, not dependent upon the generosity of a rich, white foreigner next time a big financial need arises.

* * * * *

Laura and I don't yet know how we will help. Our friend will soon return to us, having carefully reconsidered his request. We expect that he'll come back to us with a proposal -- perhaps the same request, perhaps not. And if, when he returns, he again requests the loan, should we comply?